Wings and Things
by AutumnIllusion
Summary: Kotarou remembers the first traces of insanity in his life, all starting when Misha showed up across his hallway. And luckily, Christmas might not be just so lonely this year around...


**Wings and Things**

_A Pita-ten One shot_

**By AutumnIllusion**

She tells me she's an angel.

As she stands on the porch ledge of my apartment, that's what she reassures me. "I am an angel after all." was what was supposed to explain why she was ready to jump into the cool night air.

She beams at me, waiting for me to grant permission for her descent.

Its cold out at night time; around nine o'clock right now. The wind pushes around her, flapping her long pink tresses—yes, _pink_—around her comfortably. She turns slowly, looking back at me. That makes her dress creak, the layers of purples and white ruffles rumpling and creasing against each other stiffly.

I was out of breath, delusional I must have been. For a moment I saw her with wide spread wings, of pure white feathers—just like a bird.

"What, are you crazy?!" was the response I supplied in a rather high pitch yell, coming around to my senses. I was taken aback if any word to describe the expression on my face; flustered. Tugging her back by her hand, I added, "Get down from there!!"

Eventually, after a healthy amount—although in my opinion, none of it was of good use anyway—of shouting and squalling, she hopped back down, where I then walked her back to her apartment down the hall.

_It all felt like part of a dream to me._

This girl, who simply bounded full speed into my life, all just one normal sunny day. She seemed to be everywhere, determined to so something to me, of some sorts.

And after I came back to my room, returning to cram school homework, I thought over the situation for a moment. All I could clearly think was, "Wow! Didn't know they made dresses like that."

The next night I didn't really get my studying down either. Not that it makes such a big difference anyway.

I really had sat down to work. As much as I hate algebra, I need to get some good scores going for me. Middle school applications, you know?

It's mid December now, and the sun has long since dropped back behind the horizons of buildings and trees that I enjoy seeing every once in a while from my window. Christmas is rolling around the corner, so I went through the labor of walking along main street with some small savings on the way home from school, where I got a coffee mug for Dad. I think he needs it, as he sure drinks the coffee a lot.

Most of the other people around were engaged in conversations with each other; something I can't do, as I was there by myself. Sucked for me, being alone again. That's alright though. What else could I do about it?

I got home around seven; cram school ended real late again. Whoopee for me. I didn't even bother to call out the occasional "I'm home" because as soon as I opened the door, I saw there weren't any shoes by the empty coat rack.

That's no surprise, as Dad always has to work late. This week he's out of town for business. Same with Christmas Eve. He's got a big meeting. He's gonna come back Christmas day, so maybe things won't completely be bad. So I guess it's just me and _Math Concepts 101_ for a while. Maybe _Geometry for Dummies_ will come join too. Okay, lousy joke.

Before sitting down to read, I check the refrigerator. Awaiting me is half a dozen leftover meals clad in Tupperware, a half gallon of milk, two bottles of orange juice, grapes, cheese, eggs, and some fresh apples. Making a note on the lack of variety in store, I find a pen on the countertop, then add grocery shopping to the list of thing I have to do. It's listed as number 5, labeled right below going to the Laundromat. I'll get those done tomorrow, since I don't have cram school on Thursdays.

I shrug and take out the container of linguini, which I pop into the microwave for five minutes.

When I wait for the food to heat up, I look around the house. It's like any normal one, actually quite clean—guess that's what happens when I have nothing else to do. Maybe this year, if I ever get around to it, decorate it for the holidays…put some wreaths up or so.

It all ends around seven twenty-five, my almost normal day.

At that time, I am propped up between two pillow cushions, figuring out numbers 26 through 40 odd on page 173 of the text.

At that time, I think I can hear a faint _tch_-ing sound.

Hopefully I have only imagined it.

So back to the joy of figuring out the life-changing question of: _what does x equal?_

I think I know this one. I scoop another piece of pasta into my mouth, savoring it. I scribble some numbers in the margin of my notebook, determining that _x_ must be equal to…_Tch._

_tch _

…

_tch_

…

I frown, but continue working. I only dare cast a minuscule glance towards the window, where sure enough, the girl Misha is peeking out from the ledge.

Shooting my head back down to meet with my paper, I go back to math.

_tch_

…

_tch…tch_

_tch…tch, tch_

_tch, tch, tch, tch…_

_tch, tch, tch, tch, tch, tch, tch_

_tch, tch, tch, tch, tch, tch, tch tch, tch, tch_

…

…

_TCH TCH TCH_

I had resorted to closing my eyes when the scratching started, counting to ten in slow breaths.

I told myself if I could keep my cool till I got to ten; things would get better and the scratching would subside.

So I counted.

Something like this.

1…

2…

3…

_tch._

Start again.

1…

2…

_tch._

Start again.

1…

2…

3…

4… (I smiled)

5…

6…

_tch._ (I conducted a silent scream)

Start again.

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

6…

7…

8…

_tch._

This time my eyes snapped open, and I catapulted myself into a mad dash towards the window, readying my hand.

I snatched the pitiful pokadotted curtains and yanked them towards each other.

But when I saw no Misha outside the window anymore, curiosity got the best of me. Slowly, cautiously, I lifted one side of the curtain again.

"Hiya, _su_!!"

She was back on the ledge, grinning unselfishly. The two bunny ornaments that decorated each side of her head seemed to smile too, and that creeped me out slightly.

"Uh…" I felt a sweatdrop roll down the side of my head. Once again, I was brought into confusion with the presence of this girl…or as she claimed, angel. I'd stick with girl for now. "I was kind of hoping…that you'd please stop that _incessant _scratching."

Misha didn't seem to hear my request, and kept talking. "Yays! Kotarou-kun came out!! Um, so, um…" she waved her arms at her sides eagerly, "I have somethin' to be tellin' ya! Su!"

"Well, uh, Misha," I sighed, looking at the wall clock that hung above my desk, "go ahead. But please, keep it short. I really have to study."

"Aww, aww…Kotarou-kun hasta study-wudy! That'sa biggie bummer, su. I was gonna haves me self a Misha's Holiday Bash! A Christmas party! And yous invited Kotarou-kun. I was gonna ask yous to come over to my apartmenty to help mee prepares for it." She enthusiastically raised her arms up. Actually, I'm not sure how she's standing up next to my window right now. "But I guesses Kotarou-kun gotta study for his testy-westys tonight…"

I nodded along, seeing that maybe she was actually getting to something; that I would luckily get away to my studies again.

I have no such luck though whatsoever.

"So Kotarou-kun will just hafta comes over tomorrow insteads to help me! And thens this weekend we'll all have da bestest party ever!" Misha shrugs innocently, and to my surprise, links her hand in mine. "You looks a lil tired, su."

With that, I feel the cold night air rush up to meet me.

She pulls me clear off of my feet.

I can feel the solid wooden floor boards under me sinking away from grasp. They're replaced by a simple nothingness; I don't know what I'd call it. Logically though, it's called air.

Air beneath my feet, air above me, air all around me.

I takes me a moment to realize I'm not in my room anymore, that I'm as I'd decide, falling through air.

Then all of the rush stops, and I'm suspended in air for a second, before pulled back up towards the sky.

I close my eyes, then think of counting to ten again. At ten I'll be back in my room; safe from this insanity.

1…

2…

As interference, I take that role this time. I stop counting, and just let myself be dragged through this nothingness for once.

Misha keeps my hand interlocked in her own tightly, and all I have to do is hold on.

I do not open my eyes; I have a fear of heights.

Still, I'm sure that just imagining the rows of houses below us is enough to make me feel better, at least a little bit.

They line up in neat rows, tainting the depths of the sky in white florescent light, splashing the navy blue ceilings of heaven gone to sleep.

They must look like Christmas lights, the houses. All stringed up together, making a beautiful set.

I remember seeing the city at night from above. I've seen it as so many others have seen it before, from the window of a descending airplane.

Yet this time, I think it's so much greater. So much more of a thrill to see it, not from an oval glass window, but to see it all around you, feel it running through your veins. Hah. So when have I become the type for thrill?

"Yahooo!"

Misha's voice echoes through the empty sky, filling it up, before the syllables evaporate and disappear into the clouds.

After what seems like hours, she pulls me back out of the sky, and we land, perched atop what I guess is a power plant tower.

Only then do I realize that it really is chilly out, and that my short sleeved T-shirt and jeans might not be tremendously sheltering from the wind. Resting my head in my arms, I look out over the edge of the tower plainly.

"Wooo, lookie! I'm on top of the world! Su!"

I roll my eyes to my left, watching Misha out of the corner of my eye. She her outstretched arms wave back and forth, as if welcoming the sky.

And one more time, I see wings on her back. They're folded into each other, as if resting. The feathers rustle faintly, delicate and soft.

I must be quite tired.

This whole thing must be a dream. Everything seems a dream lately. It's surreal, all this chaos. Definitely surreal.

"That's…" I pause, then simply say, "…quite a view."

"Yep!" she nods happlily. "Absolutely is! Su!"

"Strange…" I murmured into my sleeve. "Up here, all those things that are supposed to be so important…like exams for instance," as I watch the bright lights, time passes with the flickering off of each. "…don't seem to matter."

She looks at me from where she stands, leaning out towards the sky again. This time, I am not scared that she will fall.

"Aww, that's awright, suuu. Things will be awright."

She pats my head, and we stand there, just looking out at the world. She's actually silent for once, and I don't know what I should say. Decidedly, I keep my mouth shut.

There's a song…

Mom used to sing it sometimes. To make me feel better when I was sick. I still sing it, even in my un-tuned vocals, when I'm feeling down.

_In the blue…blue…_

_Of the early summer…_

Sometimes, if I look really hard, I might see those wings faintly, extending up towards the heavens.

_At the foot of a tree…_

_Violets are scattered…_

_And pansies bloom…_

Don't ask how, how she could really be an angel.

I don't always get it either.

She's not overly talented or anything.

She's not dainty and innocent.

She's certainly not the most graceful creature I've ever encountered either.

But when she took me up there, where I could look far beyond the horizon, that really didn't matter.

Nothing mattered when she was there.

It would all just fade away, and I don't even think I'd need to count to ten before it would get better.

_Purple-petaled…_

_And blue…_

"Ahh…_ACHOO_!"

It has started to snow, and little flakes of white drift past us, slowly headed down, back to existence below. I exhaled a deep sigh, watching my own breath puff in a small cloud of heat.

"Oh, gettin' a bit chilly, hmm suu?" She tilts her head to the side, and gestures below us. I don't say anything, although it seems quite obvious that it's freezing way up at this height. "Why don't we head back?"

"Oh, um…" I start, dull and slow in reaction.

"Yahooo!"

Before I can pull together a complete sentence, Misha takes my hand once more. She steps off the iron ledge of the tower, springing herself into the air—with me right along with her. I feel something I imagine to be a feather slipping past my cheek, but don't bother to question it…I don't really think she'd give me any explanation I could see possible.

At first, my eyes widen in fear, not ready for something like this, someone like her. I choke on my words, first trying to yell out some sort of criticism of her wild acts, then only to bite them back before they surfaced, knowing I didn't mean them.

She always turns things upside down.

Sometimes I find myself angry at her for the eruptions she causes. Angry at myself, for tolerating her, when I don't want to.

…_It's weird…_

…_but despite it all…_

…_I can't help…_

…_but feel…_

…_A lot less lonely than before…_

I hold my breath, feeling that same faint nothingness as we fall back towards the earth. Some things just don't have explanations. I don't think I'll really find out if she's an angel or not. Or why through all the chaos she brings, I feel alright in the end. Just like she said I would. Somehow, I don't think I'll have to be alone in Christmas Eve after all.

Yes, I am scared of heights.

But this time, I think I'll keep my eyes open.

_Authoress' Notes: _Ahh…well this lil piece came after I couldn't write ANYTHING for a real long time. I would type a paragraph or so and then delete it knowing I'd never use it again and knew it sucked. I was sooo frustrated with myself! But then one day I started this, and sat by the computer for about 3 hours straight and pretty much finished the whole thing. Then it sat in the computer for a month, and now I post it in time for Christmas ) and tomorrow I leave for vacation over the holidays anyway P finally, byebye school and homework, etc.! At least for a little while…so anyway, hope you liked it. Everyone have a merry Christmas!

_AutumnIllusion_


End file.
